Bedford Square - Anne Perry [80]
“Have you seen it?” she demanded, pointing her finger at the newspaper. She stood in the center of the room, too angry to sit.
“Good morning, Mrs. Tannifer. If you are referring to the article about Sir Guy Stanley, yes, I have read it, and I have spoken to Sir Guy himself—”
“Have you?” she cut across him. “How is he?” Her eyes were bright, her face full of concern and pity, for a moment the fear overridden.
“Do you know him?” He was interested.
“No.” She shook her head quickly. “But I can imagine what pain he is enduring at the moment.”
“You assume he is innocent of the implications in the article,” Pitt said with some surprise. It was a kinder judgment than many people would be making.
She smiled briefly, like a flash of sunlight, there and gone. “I suppose that is because I know my husband is innocent. Am I mistaken?” That was a demand, almost a challenge.
“Not so far as I know,” he replied. “Sir Guy is a victim of the same letter writer as Mr. Tannifer, and therefore I believe him when he says the charge is unfounded.”
Her voice dropped a little. “But he had the courage to defy him … as the Duke of Wellington said, ‘Publish and be damned!’ How I admire him!” Her voice rang with sincerity, and there was a faint flush in her cheeks. “What a terrible price to pay. I cannot imagine he will now obtain the post in the government that he desired. His only comfort will be his own courage, and perhaps the respect of those friends who know him well enough to dismiss the accusation.” She took a deep breath and straightened her slender shoulders. There was a warmth in her tone that lent an extraordinary beauty to her voice. “I hope we shall face the future as well. I shall write to him this morning and tell him of my regard for him. It may be of some small comfort. It is all I can do.”
He did not know how to answer her. He did not want to lie, and perhaps he could not afford to if he were to learn anything from her; but neither was he prepared to lay open Stanley’s confidences, and his own personal doubts.
“You hesitate, Mr. Pitt,” she observed, watching him closely. “There is something you do not wish to tell me. It is worse than I feared?”
“No, Mrs. Tannifer, I was merely considering how to phrase what I say so I do not betray confidences. Even though Sir Guy Stanley and Mr. Tannifer are in the same situation, I would not discuss one with the other to their embarrassment.”
“Of course!” she agreed quickly. “That is admirable. But have you learned anything more about who this devil may be? Surely all information must be helpful? I … I called you today not just because I am at my wit’s end to know what to do, how even to begin to fight this battle, but because I have information to give you myself. Please sit down.” She indicated the soft, plain chair opposite her own.
Pitt did as he was bid as soon as she had seated herself. Suddenly there was a lift of hope.
“Yes, Mrs. Tannifer? What have you learned?”
She leaned forward a little, leaving her skirts disarranged as they had crumpled in the chair. “We have received a second letter, in much the same terms as the first, but rather more direct, using words like cheat and embezzler….” Her cheeks colored with embarrassment and anger. “It is so unjust! Sigmund has never profited a ha’penny except by his own skill and judgment. He is the most honorable man I have ever known. My own father was a soldier, the colonel of a regiment. I know much of honor and loyalty, and the complete trust one must have in everything,